Death of the Elite
by Bum Russian Elvis
Summary: Everyone thought that Rogue Squadron was invincible... Until now. R&R, Chapter Five
1. Death

Star Wars

---Untitled---

Wedge Antilles

Blackness. Nothing all around the elite Rogue Squadron. Wedge Antilles, elite of

the elite, sighed. Another phony report of another phony Death Star. These were

becoming too common.

Wedge keyed the comlink for the squadron's private frequency. "Rogues, go

around and check to see if there's any sign of Imperial presence – _any. Past, current, or_

future." The rest of the Rogues checked in, but then Corran Horn spoke hurriedly.

"Leader, Nine, I've got a really _bad feeling about this. Let's split before the TIE's show up." Translation: Corran felt danger through the Force, and when a half-Jedi feels_

danger, you know that there's trouble. So they should scram before the TIE's. But, of course, it was too late. As soon as Wedge opened his mouth to speak, a

crackling squeal came over the comlink. _Jamming! Wedge thought. _

"Evasive!" He shouted to no one in particular, mainly out of reflex. "Gate, break through the jamming!" He called to the droid behind him. An affirmative whistle answered.

And then the TIE – Twin Ion Engine – Fighter's were on them, blazing away with their wingtip cannons. By the number of flashes Wedge saw blaze past him, he estimated

that there were about 7 fighters behind him. He knew that they were in the thick of it – it being the ambush carefully planned

to trap Rogue Squadron.

Well, they wouldn't go down without a fight.

Wedge linked his laser cannons to fire two at a time – less of a punch but faster recharge rate. He squeezed the trigger and fired as fast as the aiming program went

from red, to yellow, and to green, signifying a target lock. All the while avoiding the same position, except the positions switched: His

X-wing in the TIE Fighters aiming brackets. And then the comm squealed back to life, transmitting cries of triumph, pain, and

fear.

"---Can't---im!" "AHH!" "Two, break port!" "Got 'im!" "Another one down!" "Get him off me, I can't shake him!! AHHH!" "Five's gone!" "There goes Nine!"

"GAVIN!" "They're moving too fast – I can't get a target loc---" 

Static.

He checked his scanner board, still squeezing the trigger and zigg-zagging, diving, and jukeing. No one was still alive.

Names ran through Wedge's mind. _Corran… Gavin…Tycho…Asyr…_

He looked at his scanner again, this time to see how many hostiles they had taken out. Out of 5 attacking squadrons, 2 were obliterated and another squadron was half gone.

All the TIE's were damaged. 

And with a sobbing wail, Wedge Antilles, sole remaining member of the elite Rogue Squadron, went to lightspeed to tell his tail of woe, though he yearned to stay, to

die as his squadron had, he knew that somebody had to tell eleven families how their mothers, fathers, husbands, or wives died.

That someone had to be him.

I know, short, but hey, it wasn't that bad? Besides, it was just the first chapter. Well, prelude. I'm planning on continueing this. And, yes, I know that this is kinda similar to when Talon Squad. dies under the command of Donos. But it was still good. And for the simple reason of that I think that they're awesome, Wes and Hobbie weren't with the Rogues yet. Ysard never existed, all of the Rogues from the first book – Rogue Squadron – are still alive. Well, were. They died here. This is very AU. 


	2. Despair

Blackness. Nothing all around the elite Rogue Squadron. Wedge Antilles, elite of the elite, sighed. Another phony report of another phony Death Star. These were becoming too common.   
  
Wedge keyed the comlink for the squadron's private frequency. "Rogues, go around and check to see if there's any sign of Imperial presence - any. Past, current, or future." The rest of the Rogues checked in, but then Corran Horn spoke hurriedly.  
  
"Leader, Nine, I've got a really bad feeling about this. Let's split before the TIE's show up." Translation: Corran felt danger through the Force, and when a half-Jedi feels danger, you know that there's trouble. So they should scram before the TIE's got there. But, of course, it was too late. As soon as Wedge opened his mouth to speak, a crackling squeal came over the comlink. //Jamming!// Wedge thought.   
  
"Evasive!" He shouted to no one in particular, mainly out of reflex. "Gate, break through the jamming!" He called to the droid behind him. An affirmative whistle answered.  
  
And then the TIE – Twin Ion Engine – Fighter's were on them, blazing away with their wingtip cannons. By the number of flashes Wedge saw blaze past him, he estimated that there were about 7 fighters behind him. He knew that they were in the thick of it – it being the ambush carefully planned to trap Rogue Squadron.  
  
Well, they wouldn't go down without a fight.  
  
Wedge linked his laser cannons to fire two at a time – less of a punch but faster recharge rate. He squeezed the trigger and fired as fast as the aiming program went from red, to yellow, and to green, signifying a target lock. All the while avoiding the same position, except the positions switched: His X-wing in the TIE Fighters aiming brackets. And then the comm squealed back to life, transmitting cries of triumph, pain, and fear.  
  
"---Can't---im!" "AHH!" "Two, break port!" "Got 'im!" "Another one down!" "Get him off me, I can't shake him!! AHHH!" "Five's gone!" "There goes Nine!" "GAVIN!" "There's moving too fast! I can't get a target loc--"  
  
Static.  
  
He checked his scanner board, still squeezing the trigger and zigg-zagging, diving, and jukeing. No one was still alive.  
  
Names ran through Wedge's mind. Corran… Gavin…Tycho…Asyr…  
  
And with a cry of anguish, Wedge Antilles sat bolt upright in his bed. Sweat streamed down his face, soaked his back and bed. It was cold. He shook his head, and checked his chrono.   
  
0900.   
  
"Blast it, Tycho, why didn't you wake me up...?" He growled, the post-sleep haze clouding the recent events. He stood up and stretched, his joints creaking.  
  
And with the creak of his joints he remembered the battle again, and he let out another anguished scream. He hollered the names of his lost squadron, the names of his best friends. While he knew that Winter, Tycho's wife, wouldn't be much better off, probably worse, he could only think of how his entire life, all of his friends, had been swiped away within 10 minutes. He had barely escaped with his life himself, and he wished that he hadn't.  
  
He lost everything in that ambush. His X-wing was barely in working condition, and had been decommitioned. His astromech droid, Gate, had been blasted into a smoking ruin, beyond repair. And recently, his girlfriend Qwi Xux had left him. The only source of comfort he thought that he had left was Booster Terrik, and his time was spent comforting his daughter, Mirax, whose husband had died in the ambush.  
  
Wedge was even on the verge of being drummed out of the New Republic military. In the weeks since his squadron's death, he had been demoted down to Flight Officer again and court martialed for lack of appearances at meetings. All of this while he had barely left his quarters.   
  
Couldn't those idiots in charge of the military tell that he was a broken soul? Nothing left to him. He had nothing left to him. Nothing... 


	3. Get up

Hey, no one's reviewed. SHAME ON YOU! Review! The only thing I have going strong right now is Holy Grail! You gotta help me! PLEASE! Review! I'll give you a cookie! A cake! A bakery!!  
  
Wedge awoke to a gentle tapping on his door. He looked around groggily, wondering what made the offensive noise. He identified the offender as the door, and treated it accordingly.  
  
That is, he threw whatever he had at hand at the door. The datapad smacked it with an even more offending whack, then hit the ground with a still-offensive thud.  
  
"Go 'way!" Wedge slurred, still tired.  
  
"Flight Officer, open this door at once. That's an order." A voice that Wedge couldn't place in his sleepy state commanded. He was almost tempted to open it, but he figured that he had nothing to lose anymore.  
  
So, another datapad hit the door, harder this time.  
  
"Antilles! You have two options! One, you get out of bed and open the door. Two, I get someone down here and open up the door on my own. You won't like that, Antilles."  
  
"I have another option: Go back to sleep. But since you woke me up already, I may as well let you in." So Wedge threw a datapad into the door control. For a person who just woke up against his will, he had amazing aim and the door slid open.  
  
General Cracken blinked, stepped over the considerable pile of objects at the door that suggested that Wedge had repeated this procedure many times in the past few days. "Listen, Flight Officer-"  
  
"No, General. You listen. I want you out of my room right after this. I have just lost everyone who was dear to me in the past week. Doctor Xux left me. Agent Wessiri has left me. My squadron is dead. I'm a broken and miserable man. The only thing that stops me from shooting myself through the head is the fact that no one will give me a blaster to shoot myself with, or some sort of weapon. Now get the hell out of here."  
  
Cracken stopped, hesitated, then continued. "Wedge, I know this is hard for you. All of your friends were just blasted out of existence, I know, believe me. I understand. But this came from those higher up then me, no matter how much I argued against it. Well - here." Cracken tossed a datacard to Wedge. Wedge completely and totally failed to make an attempt to catch it.   
  
"I'm out of the military, aren't I?"  
  
Cracken hesitated before replying.  
  
"I won't hold it against you, General. I believe what you said. Especially since Pash was one of the ones..." Wedge stopped himself. "I haven't exactly been idle, Airen. I've been trying to figure out which warlord got my squadron."  
  
Cracken snorted. "Good luck. Our intelligence hasn't found any hints as to which warlord it was. Most people think that-"  
  
"It wasn't an Imperial, or Ex-Imperial who did it."  
  
"You can't be serious, Wedge."  
  
"I'm dead serious. When I force myself to think back, those pilots were way to inexperienced and, well, bad to be former Imps. Just before I hyped, there were barely any TIEs left. And if it were a Warlord, they'd have used Interceptors to minimize losses. At least, that's what I would do."  
  
"Well, that may just be ego speaking."  
  
Wedge turned to Cracken and spitted him with a hard stare. If eyes could shoot lasers, Cracken would be a charred spot on the floor. "General, I'd take this point to remind you that I just lost my entire squadron. Whatever ego I may of had is now shot. And I will kindly ask you to retract your comment."  
  
Cracken froze. "Of course, Wedge. I meant nothing by it." He said eventually.  
  
"I know." Wedge said with a sigh. "It's just that... well, I'm sensitive in that area. I finally let loose and have fun with the pilots, and they go and die."  
  
"I understand completely. It's happened to me and my Intellligence operatives, more then you care to know."  
  
Wedge just nodded.   
  
"Anyway. If this wasn't an Ex-Imp, who was it?"  
  
"Someone with a grudge against Rogue Squadron, or maybe just me. They wouldn't go out of their way like that or waste that many resources just to kill us. Something personal... Something..." Wedge's eyes lit up. "General, are Hobbie and Wes on the planet? Or available?" He asked, desperate.  
  
"I believe so. Why?"  
  
"Because they would have been with the Squadron when we made our foes angry." Wedge said, his voice hardening. "And I think I know who it was."  
  
*******  
  
"You can't be serious, Wedge." Wes Janson said barely two hours later.  
  
"I am, Wes. Dead serious."  
  
"But... We vaped him." Derek 'Hobbie' Klivian chimed in.  
  
"Obviously not. No one else would have the resources, know-how, and motivation as James Shigarra." Before Rogue Squadron was reformed, the Rogues had gone up against an extremely large organization that was headed by James Shigarra. They had a grudge against the Empire, or at least didn't like it, but they liked the Rebellion even less. They had ambushed a supply convoy that would have succeeded if the Rogues weren't guarding it. As it was, they barely escaped from the vicious attacks of the organizations top fighters. Only 4 of the 10 convoy ships made it through, and all had damage ranging from heavy to moderate. Rebel Command had given Rogue Squadron orders to get inside the group and get rid of it.   
  
This the Squadron did, and did well, desite being mainly pilots. Shigarra had a shocking resemblence to Wedge himself, so much that one of the Rogues confided the secrets of the plan to bring his organization down to him without knowing. In the process of escaping as the headquarters blew up around them, Wedge had gotten into a vicious brawl with Shigarra. Shigarra pulled a knife on Wedge once he knew that he was beaten without weapons, and Wedge had only been saved by Wes shooting Shigarra through the chest with a blaster. Wedge had uncovered rumors of someone with description matching that of Shigarra during his research of who killed his squadron.  
  
In these rumors, a cyborg with Shigarra's - and therefore Wedge's - face had scooped up the remains of his crime syndicate and become once again powerful, with the resources to pull off a stunt like the one that took his squadron. Either way, once Wedge set out, he was going after the Shigarran Group.   
  
Wedge explained the rumors and his determination. "And I want you two to come with."  
  
Wes' jaw dropped. "Uh... Boss?"  
  
"No no no no no." Hobbie groaned. "Bad things will happen, I know it, because they always do! If we infiltrate them again, and if it is Shigarra back up, he'll remember us and kill us!"  
  
"That's why we won't be going in." Wedge said. "Listen, I'm going to Booster to ask him to help, and I'm sure he will. Mirax probably will, and - " He immediatly stopped talking as the door chimed. He motioned for Hobbie and Wes to take postions on opposite sides of the door, and when they did, called, "Come on in."   
  
The door slid open and a large man came in a few steps. Apparently, he heard something, because he stopped and slammed his shoulder into Wes as he came from behind, then swept his foot through Hobbie's and called out, "Wedge! Are you in here?!"  
  
Wes cursed as the shoulder hit him, and Hobbie moaned as he hit the ground. Wes stopped going after the man - Kell Tainer - when he heard him call for Wedge. Hobbie was about to tackle Tainer from the ground when Wedge's voice stopped him.  
  
"Hobbie! Wait! This is one of the Wraiths!"  
  
Hobbie paused, and then tackled Tainer anyway.  
  
"Kell, what do you want?"  
  
Kell swore. "Well, first, I want Hobbie off of me."  
  
Hobbie complied.  
  
"And second, I was going to try and help you over the loss of... Yeah. Not trying to make you have another loss on your hands."  
  
Wedge smiled, the first in far too long. "Get up, Kell."  
  
Kell also complied. "And third, I heard that you were planning revenge... and felt it my duty to tell you that the Wraiths are with you."  
  
Wes shook his head. "Did you feel that it was your duty, or did Tyria feel it was your duty?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Thought so."  
  
"Okay, people. This is just the begining. Kell, you get the Wraith's to the Spaceport, Docking Bay 47. I've bought myself a sleek little ship which should work. Bring whatever you want, as long as you have blasters with you. Many blasters. Wes, Hobbie, same thing. Get there at 10:00 tomorrow morning, and we should be out by noon. A figure a 16 hour flight to the Errant Venture. Questions? No? Do it!"  
  
The small group acknowledged, and as they walked out, Wedge heard Hobbie commenting to Wes.  
  
"You sure it was a good idea to get him back to his old self? He's ordering us again..."  
  
Wedge burst out laughing.  
  
Now, I know there are some of you who are wondering, "Who the hell is James Shigarra?" Well, he's MINE! ALL MINE! I created him just for this story, and I might - MIGHT - make a prequel about the first time Wedge went after Shigarra. But that's in the distant future. And pretty pretty please review! I like feedback like that! Really! 


	4. Lightfight

I have nothing to comment on... because I got no reviews! Please remedy that. Please. Pretty please?   
  
Wedge lay in the pilots seat, staring out at the mottled space of lightspeed. A few tears dripped down his cheeks as he thought of his friends, partners, what-have-you. He still had trouble believing that they had all been killed. All - dead. Wes and Hobbie were in their crew cabins, asleep. Wedge couldn't sleep. Whenever he did, his mind kept traveling back to that one horrid battle. But each time, it was different. Just a little different. Sometimes Gate survived. Sometimes Wedge died.  
  
Sometimes, even, Wraith Squadron jumped in to rescue them.  
  
But every time, most of his squadron died. Every time, Myn Donos died. Every time, Tycho Celchu died. Corran died. Never had more then 3 people, including Wedge, survived. But it kept playing through his mind, all the time. Like there was something he wasn't seeing... Something...  
  
The hyperspace proximity brought Wedge out of his thoughts, signaling him to 10 seconds until he should revert. He pulled the levers back at the right time, then turned on the intercom.  
  
"Wes, Hobbie get up here, now!" He added some urgency in his voice to make it suggest that something was wrong, and threw in some wild manuevers to convince them. In no time, the pair was stumbling into the bridge. "Hey, fellows." He said as he stopped his manuevering and headed towards the Errant Venture.  
  
"What...? What's wrong?" Wes asked, frowning a little.  
  
"Absolutely nothing."  
  
The Wraiths pulled into formation around the shuttle, and made contact. "What the Sith were you doing, Wedge?"  
  
"Getting Wes and Hobbie to the bridge. It worked."  
  
Wedge could almost hear Face Loran grinning. "Gotta remember that."  
  
"Alright, just a minute, Face. I'm being hailed." Wes changed chanels to the hailing frequency.  
  
"What the Sith were you doing, Wedge?" Booster Terrik's voice demanded, prompting a smile from Wedge.  
  
"Later. What we need now is a place to land, a place to sleep, and a place to plan."  
  
"Plan? Plan what?"  
  
"Revenge."  
  
********  
  
Art Jaki looked at Booster Terrik, then at the shuttle three figures were walking off. Jaki had been placed on the Venture by Shigarra to make sure that Terrik didn't get out of hand. He had worked his way up to the equivilent of First Officer on the ship, and had been the reason the Venture had gotten such a sound beating - sound enough to take the ship down from the fully-armed Impstar Duece it was to the pitifull and pitifully armed shell of the mighty war vessel.   
  
Jaki was certain that Terrik was going to be trouble. Even if he had been forced to retreat from the battle, he had destroyed one of Shigarra's dreadnaughts and hurt a Victory-class Destroyer badly. Jaki knew that Shigarra would kill Booster, and steal the Errant Venture, and had no desire to be on it when it happened.  
  
He also knew that Wedge Antilles was coming soon, and was under orders to bring the Rebel to his master. He had no idea how he would do it, but felt certain he could.  
  
He could make out some features on the trio, and saw black hair on one, brown on another, and one blonde. As they walked closer, Jaki saw who they were.  
  
Antilles! He's here! And he has friends... Those X-wing's have got to be with him. His hand slowly drifted to the blaster on his hip. I can get him and his two friends, but then Terrik will have his hands around my neck. I need the back-up Shigarra gave me. Terrik will most likely tell me to bring him to his quarters, and maybe I'll have him then.   
  
********  
  
Wedge looked at the dark blue Twi'lek standing next to Booster. There was something off about him. He came up to Booster and stretched his hand to his big friend, putting thoughts about the Twi'lek away.  
  
"Booster, it's good to see you. Is Mirax...?" He trailed off, not wanting to mention it. It still pained him.  
  
"She's fine." He answered.  
  
Wedge nodded, then turned and waved Wes and Hobbie forward. They were both introduced to Booster, and Booster to them.  
  
"And this is my First Officer, Art Jaki. He's fairly new, and I was surprised that he showed so much to get here so fast. And since barely anything surprises me, just the fact that he did surprise me got him fairly high. Art, meet Wedge Antilles."  
  
Art extended his hand, and Wedge accepted it. Art pumped Wedge's hand vigorously, but Wedge's feeling of offness grew. He pushed it away again, and turned to Booster.  
  
"Booster, are we all together?" He asked, gesturing to the Wraiths that were approaching from their fighters.  
  
"In two suites, yes."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Art, will you show these fine gentlemen to their rooms? Thanks."  
  
Art nodded, then gestured for them to follow. They followed him to the most luxurious suites on the ship. They got there, and Art opened the door. As Wedge walked through, Art cleared his blaster from its holster. A heavy left hook sent Wes cartwheeling into the opposite wall. Art shot twice into the ceiling, and hit his wrist-comm. It immediatly summoned the team to his location.  
  
Everybody had their blasters out, now, except Wes. He was clutching his nose, exclaiming that it was broken.   
  
Wedge was quivering in rage, his blaster pointed at Art's back. Art swallowed, then quickly ducked down. He knew they wouldn't fire, not with Wedge right behind him.   
  
Art sprung into the group of pilots, knocking two or three of them over. He swung two fists out and caught two more. He then flung himself back at Wedge, bowling into him, but neither fell. Art twisted Wedge's arm behind his back in a painful position, and leveled his blaster back at the pilots.  
  
"If one of you move - just one - either the whole lot of you die, or your commander dies." He announced simply.  
  
Wedge bit back a curse. "You'll never get away with it. Booster won't think twice about throwing you out the airlock. Drop the gun, Jaki, and you could live this through."  
  
Jaki snorted. "Yeah, sure. And soon as my boss gets wind of this I'll be vaped."  
  
"Who's your boss?"  
  
"You'll see soon enough. That's where we're going, to see my boss."  
  
Wedge saw Wes creeping away slowly. He had to give him time. "No... we're not!" Wedge punctuated this by slamming the back of his head into Jaki's. As Jaki let go briefly in surprise, Wedge swung the thug into the bulkhead by the arm. A knee to the stomach and one-two punch to the head lowered Jaki slowly towards the ground.   
  
Jaki cursed, and swung out against his assailant. He felt his fist connect but didn't wait to see the impact. He swung his legs through Wedge's to bring the commander crashing down with a thud, but Wedge planted his boot into Jaki's nose.   
  
Spraying blood from the nose, the spy struggled up to spring down the hallway. He cursed when he heard Wedge shout 'stun him' and started to zig-zag. It did him little good, because it took nearly no time at all for blue stun blasts to find him and bring him rolling to a halt at the feet of his back-up team.  
  
********   
  
"Sithspawn!" Kell shouted. "Into the rooms!" He suited action to words and dived through the nearest doorway. Face soon joined him.   
  
"Ah, hello." Face said awkwardly. He stood up, and faced the occupant of the room as Kell started to return fire. "I'm-"  
  
"Garik Loran!!" The woman shrieked. "Oh! I love you!"  
  
"Ahm... I... er... Well..."  
  
"Face, a little - YELP!" Kell leaped back through the doorway as a blast scorched through the space his head had occupied. "If you're going to get like this, at least give me your blaster."  
  
The woman shrieked again, in terror this time, when she realized what was going on. Face absentmindedly handed Kell his blaster as he tried to calm her. "Thanks." Kell said, and leaned out to start shooting again.   
  
Kell grinned a little victory grin when he saw an assailant go down under his guns. He leaned back in for a breather. A plan started to formulate in his mind as he breathed. He stuck his head out the door again to get a fix on the numbers, shot his guns a few times to discourage those seeking to remodel his head, and ducked back in saying some impressive language even for an egotistical fighter jock.  
  
"What's with the sewer?" Face said, frowning.  
  
"There's nearly 10 thugs out there."  
  
"So?"  
  
"That's per Wraith."  
  
Face paled to a color to suggest that he had just seen a wraith.  
  
*******  
  
Wes gave a little cry as a blaster bolt burned past him. It wasn't particularly close, but it's generally bad to have blaster bolts going at you. But he'd rather be here then down there, where the main force was.   
  
He glanced back, and decided that the force was two big. His blaster found a nice position in his hand and proceeded to spit at the thugs. One, two, three of the unnamed organizations men collapsed in a heap. Another bolt passed by, a bit closer then the last, and he sprang into the turbolift. With a sigh, he leaned against the lift wall as it climbed up towards Booster's office. He could only hope the man would have a security team ready. 


	5. Tried and True

GASP! A REVIEW! MUST LOVE AND CHERISH FOR EVER AND EVER! If Yahoo doesn't decide that I don't need the reviews I've saved on it... Stupid Yahoo... Anyway!  
  
Ariennye - Yeah, I killed 'em off... All in the purpose of suspence! Oh, and getting a good grade when I turned it in at school! And I'm going by the numbers they had at the end of Solo Command. So it's more like 80 thugs. But getting 80 suited thugs under Booster Terrik's nose onto the most beloved thing in his life (Y'know, his ship) is quite an accomplishment.  
  
Onward!  
  
--  
  
Wes stumbled onto Booster's bridge, clutching his nose, from which blood was still pouring. His face was pale, most likely from the extreme loss of blood. The entire bridge semmed to stare at him as he tripped over his legs and crashed onto the ground, with his blaster still clutched in one hand.   
  
"What the- Janson?! What are you doing- what happened? Is Wedge okay?"  
  
Things were becoming dim, and there was a white light now in the tunnel that Wes had, apparently, been walking through his entire life. It would be so easy, just end it all now. Be with his family... his dad... his friends... He reached out a hand towards it. So easy...  
  
--  
  
Kell's blasters spit out angrily at the oncoming horde of thugs, but to no readily apparent effect. It seemed that whenever he shot one, two more took the thugs place. And then when he shot them, well, no more came, so he was good.   
  
But the thugs generally took more then one shot to take down, and he didn't have that many power packs. "Face, are you sure you don't have any more extra power packs?"  
  
"I may have... Yeah, here's a few." Face pulled out four spares from a pouch he had attached to his belt. "That's it, though, so be careful."  
  
"Don't you worry. Just worry about her." And Kell leaned back out and began shooting again.   
  
--  
  
Wedge was near the front of the horde, but he didn't think that they had seen him duck into the room. All he had was one blaster and a small pack of ammo - about 10 more packs, with 150 shots in each. He would lean out and take well-aimed shots at nearly point-blank range, but the thugs would rush him as soon as he ducked back in.   
  
But then, if he didn't, they might rush those in Wraith Squadron... Wedge couldn't stand to let more people under his command die, because of something he did, or didn't, do.  
  
"Hobbie, how many blasters do you have?"  
  
"I have an old BlasTech DL-44 and a hold-out."  
  
"A hold-out? Didn't General Madine think of a way to modify a hold-out blasters into a small grenade?" Wedge felt an idea coming on.  
  
"Well, I don't think that he thought it up. All you have to do is overcharge it, like any normal blaster." It wasn't quite what he wanted, but good enough. It'd also get Booster down here if Wes hadn't of made it to the bridge.  
  
"Okay, give me your hold-out. And - weren't these going to be the quarters Booster was going to give us?"  
  
Hobbie thought back as he handed Wedge the smaller blaster. "Yeah, I think. Why?"  
  
"Because it's not like Booster not to be prepared. Go look through the library, see if you can find any blasters or maybe another bomb." Wedge looked over toward the library as he spoke. "We need all we can get."  
  
"I know what you mean, Wedge. Do you want my other blaster?"  
  
Wedge set his face into a hard line. "No. Keep it, incase you need it. I have a feeling that we're going to be swamped after this."   
  
Hobbie just nodded as he went into the library, to begin his search.  
  
--  
  
In a dark room, at the top of a palace located on the equator of a planet many hundreds of lightyears away from the Errant Venture, a man sat in a throne. This man was physically powerful, with strength to challenge a Wookie, and height to match it. He was barely human, not only in his enhanced height and strength, but in that he was more then half cyborg, from fights, battles, fought long ago...  
  
Battles that were lost long ago.  
  
The man was meditating on these losses, hoping that he would find some way that, if ever given the chance, he would win these battles. He knew that it was a bizarre concept, but he also knew that it was more then likely that it was going to happen. He had heard of the failure of the fighter wing he sent out, and knew that the attack would only serve to anger his prey, and leave a trail that could be followed. A subtle, hard-to find trail, but a trail nonetheless.   
  
Logically, if the mans prey ever found him, it would not be hard to crush him - after all, this tyrant in the criminal industry had grown physically stronger, and mentally stronger, since their last meeting.   
  
But somehow, the tyrant knew that if his prey ever found him, he would die. He couldn't quite explain how he knew - maybe it was some long-dormant Force talent he had, but didn't know about, coming to life in a warning. Maybe it was a deity warning him. He couldn't say, all he could say was that he knew, and that knowledge could save his life.  
  
After another half hour of meditation, the tyrant declared it useless, and called for a servant to bring up a meal that suited whatever time of day it was. And in the brief light given from the control panel, the face of Wedge Antilles glowered out!  
  
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BWEEEHEEHEE! I'm evil, I know, just review... And I'll try and get another chapter up. 


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